Smile
by loanshark
Summary: A slightly different take on the reason behind Fuji's smile. Contains introspection and flashbacks into Fuji's past.


**Title:** Smile

**Genre:** General, Angst

**Rating: **G

**Warnings:** Not everything written in this story is necessarily canon. Some have been taken from fanon, and others are mere speculations on my part. Please do not take the information contained in this story to be true.

**Summary: **A slightly different take on the reason behind Fuji's smile. Contains introspection and flashbacks into Fuji's past.

* * *

The whole affair started innocently enough. They had just had a tiring training – as usual. They were all trudging wearily to the locker room to change – as usual. And Kikumaru Eiji was skipping happily next to them, laughing the whole way.

There were times when even Fuji Syusuke had to wonder where Eiji got all his energy. It was especially so when the acrobatic tennis player came to school in a good mood – on those days, the boy was near unstoppable.

Momoshiro Takeshi was the one who voiced out what they were all thinking. "Eiji-sempai, why do you still have so much energy? Aren't you in the least bit tired after that practice that Tezuka-buchou made us go through?"

"_Saa_, Momo," Fuji interjected with a smile. "I thought you would have realised long ago that Eiji is almost always genki, especially when he has just gotten a new tube of toothpaste?"

There was a slightly pause, before Eiji laughed brightly. "That's right! My sister bought it for me late last night – isn't she the greatest! I even brought it to school to show you! Come on Oishi, you haven't seen it yet!" And with that, he dragged the mildly protesting fukubuchou at top speed towards the locker room.

The others sweat dropped at the sight, and then Momoshiro suddenly turned to Fuji. "But you shouldn't be saying that Eiji-sempai is always genki, Fuji-sempai! After all, you're the one who keeps on smiling!"

The aforementioned smile was in full force as Fuji turned to the younger boy. "_Saa_, I guess you're right, Momo."

With that single comment he refused to say any more, but behind the closed eyes, his mind was replaying the events of the past…

* * *

Since young, Fuji Syusuke had always been a bright child. He certainly couldn't do anything he wanted – there was no child who could. But he came very close to achieving it.

Sometimes when Fuji thought back on his childhood, he would wonder why he never became a person who only studied and did nothing else. And his mind would inadvertently link the reason to the one person who had been his closest company throughout those childhood years.

Fuji Yuuta – his otouto and, at one point in time, his best friend and playmate.

It had been a long time since they had played together in that little playground near their house, schoolbags lying forgotten in the sand as they chased each other around, laughing gaily.

It had been a long time indeed…

* * *

"_Nya_, Fujiko!" Eiji whined as he pushed his schoolbooks back into his bag at the end of the school day. "How is it possible for you to be staring out of the window the entire lesson and still answer the teacher correctly whenever she calls on you? I'll understand if you just did this during our lessons on the classics, but no, it's for _every _single lesson!"

Fuji just shrugged, and smiled.

* * *

Fuji usually found lessons very boring. It wasn't as though he disliked the classes – on the contrary, he was one of those oddities who actually usually enjoyed going to school. It helped, too, that most of his teachers liked him. He was, after all, a straight 'A' student.

But that was the entire problem with school. He usually understood what was being taught much faster than everyone else, and so sat in utter boredom while the teachers explained the problems again, and again, and again…

Part of the problem was that teachers rarely ever called on him in class. Since primary school, all his teachers had followed the same pattern – they would think that he, with his closed eyes, was sleeping, and so would call on him to answer a question, which he would do flawlessly. The process would perhaps repeat itself for a week, until teachers realised that they would probably never get anything else from the fair-haired boy but 100% accuracy. After that, he would be left alone for the rest of the year unless there was a need for classes to be rushed through – in those cases, Fuji Syusuke would be relied on to give quick, correct answers.

It was why Fuji was always so bored – he never had anything to do in class. Eiji didn't understand why he found it so upsetting – after all, wasn't it good that teachers never called on him? Then he could do anything he wanted!

Fuji would always smile when Eiji commented on this. He doubted the agile tennis player would be able to understand what he felt.

Perhaps the one person who understood was Tezuka Kunimitsu. Teachers never called on Tezuka either, because he, too, was a top student. In fact, the only times when Tezuka spoke in class would be when the teacher had made a mistake, and needed to be corrected.

Oishi had once commented jokingly that teachers probably hated to hear Tezuka's voice, but in all likelihood, this was the truth. Teachers liked Tezuka, but they were also scared of him.

There were probably only two differences between Fuji and Tezuka when it came to classes. The first was that while Fuji was constantly staring out of windows and essentially looking inattentive, Tezuka always listened with his full attention fixed on the teacher. He was simply that kind of student.

The second difference was that while both could easily identify the mistakes on the board, Fuji would never tell the teacher. On those days that he was feeling charitable, he would tell Eiji, who would then inform the teacher. Usually though, he would just leave things as they were and simply watch as teacher and students stared at the board in confusion when they got odd answers. There were times when the answers didn't look wrong, and the Fuji would just chuckle as all his classmates copied incorrect answers, although he would be sure to point it out to Eiji later on in private.

Fuji had a sadistic streak, and he always used his intelligence greatly to his amusement. And Tezuka, being Tezuka, no longer rolled his eyes or sighed when he heard Eiji complaining about it.

His eyebrow merely twitched. And that reaction was enough for Fuji.

Still, their differences would probably never mean that there would be any dissimilarity in the way teachers treated them…

* * *

"_Nya_, Fujiko!" Eiji yelled into his ear one day before class. "When are you coming round for dinner again? Okaasan keeps asking about you, and dinner is always more fun when you're around!"

More fun? Dinners in the Kikumaru household were almost always rowdy – he would have thought that he made the dinners less noisy and more peaceful. But in the face of Eiji's enthusiasm, Fuji merely smiled and agreed to go round the next night.

* * *

Dinners in Fuji's house were usually quiet, but Fuji had always had a sense of fulfilment whenever he sat down to one of them. Conversations were quiet, with each person telling the others of their day. It was even better when his otousan came home – at those times, they would be entertained with stories of countries far from their homes. Back then, such stories always fascinated the young Syusuke and Yuuta, who had to be constantly reminded to continue eating their dinner.

Those were the times when they were still innocent and ignorant of the world around them. Those were the times when both were unconcerned with inter-sibling rivalry and competition. Those were the times when Yuuta was still at home everyday.

Now, dinners only consisted of his okaasan, oneesan and himself. They were still meaningful and still full of stories, but there was always something missing. Instead of the one empty seat that they were all, by now, used to, there were two.

* * *

"Game, Fuji! Six games to three!"

Both players were panting as they met at the net to shake hands. One firm handshake, and then Momoshiro laughed.

"Looks like I still can't beat you, Fuji-sempai! Your Higuma Otoshi just neutralises all my attempts at smashes! How did you ever come up with something like that?"

Fuji chuckled lightly at the younger boy's excitement, and smiled.

* * *

Fuji had been playing tennis even before he began elementary school. Back then, the only racquets he could lift were the plastic racquets that one bought from the toy store, and the balls he used were squash balls – simply because he could not hold a tennis ball properly with one hand. It wasn't quite tennis, but for a four-year-old, it was close enough.

As he grew, plastic racquets were exchanged for proper ones, and squash balls for tennis balls. His legs grew longer, and he found he could run faster and manage to catch more balls. He soon realised that he hated the idea of allowing a ball to bounce on his side of the court without returning it, and would grimly chase after every single ball no matter were it landed. His stamina increased, and eventually he could last through a six game match instead of his initial one game.

It was during his fifth year of elementary school that he first came up with the theories for his Triple Counters. He had seen so many people return his usual volleys without any difficulty that he wondered if there was a way to remove the bounce of the ball. He had seen the ease with which a smash could be used to win a game that he knew there had to be a way to neutralise its power. And he noticed how even the slightest wind could affect the speed and direction of the tennis ball.

The person who helped him physically develop his three shots was his tennis coach in elementary school. He had been fascinated with the small fifth-grader ever since he first saw the Tsubame Gaishi – a failed attempt, to be sure, but the idea was there. Under his guidance, Fuji finally completed his Triple Counters successfully.

It was pointless, however, to have such a skill in elementary school, where tennis was taken as a fun sport for all, and there were few events like intra-school ranking matches and regular teams to worry about. The first time Fuji used Tsubame Gaishi against a sixth-grader, that sempai had been upset and very angry. It was still acceptable if a kouhai defeated his sempai in a match, but for a sempai to be humiliated with a move like that was almost forbidden.

It was the last time Fuji ever used any of his Triple Counters in that school, and for the next two years, the only people who knew all three of his counters were Tezuka and Ryuzaki-sensei.

Ryuzaki-sensei knew because she was his coach, and had a right to know. And Tezuka knew, because he was the only one during those two years who could cause Fuji to play seriously in a tennis match.

It was probably a fortunate thing for Fuji that Tezuka's character was the way it was, for he could be trusted to keep all things secret, even if they were not meant to be. So, it was not until his third year in Seigaku that most people saw every single one of his Triple Counters and were astounded by them.

Gone were the days when a young boy could barely hold a tennis ball with both hands, and when a small chibi had to resort to plastic racquets. They now only existed in the memory of the taller and far more skillful tennis player who had taken the child's place.

* * *

Every time Fuji walked onto the court for a match, he would always hear the murmurings and whispers of the huge crowed around him, and as far as he could tell, they would always be saying the same things.

"Look…it's him. Seigaku's number two…"

"The tensai…"

"Tensai Fuji Syusuke…"

Contrary to what many believed, it really was the truth that whispers carried the farthest and were the easiest things to hear, save shouting. So it was that Fuji had heard such comments so many times in his life, and it was simply because of this reason that the acclaimed prodigy only smiled as he continued to walk onto the court.

* * *

The first time Fuji had heard the term 'tensai' being used on himself actually had nothing to do with tennis. It was during his fourth year of elementary school, and Fuji, having scored top marks for nearly every subject he took, acquired that nickname from his classmates. These were the people who soon began to say, "Go ask the tensai!" whenever they faced a problem they could not solve.

It was only during his first year at Seigaku that the name of 'tensai' was added in reference to his tennis. For a long time, it had always been that the first years could do nothing but practice basics, pick up balls and tidy the courts after practice. But that year, an exception had already been made, for Tezuka Kunimitsu had joined the tennis club, and to say that Tezuka was an excellent tennis player was an understatement.

It seemed, however, that there would always be some sempai who were determined to make life hard for the first years, and on the day that the second year had struck Tezuka on the elbow, Fuji had been watching with narrowed eyes from the sidelines.

Already Tezuka and Fuji had become acquaintances, and Fuji hated it whenever anyone on his 'care for' list was hurt. That list included, among others, Yumiko-neesan, Yuuta, Kikumaru Eiji, and now, Tezuka Kunimitsu.

So it was that when the second year found his target suddenly shifted under the care of Yamato-buchou and he decided that the constantly smiling, seemingly fragile first year was a perfect person to bully, Fuji had accepted his challenge to a match.

Eiji had begged him not to play against their older and much taller sempai, but Fuji had only grabbed his racquet, smiled reassuringly at him, and then strode onto the court.

It was a day when the school team had gone to practice with another school, and so only several second years and the first years were left on the court. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tezuka and Oishi join a worried Eiji, and then he threw the ball into the air and served.

For the first four games he allowed his sempai to win, quietly observing with half-closed eyes every move the other boy made. The he fought back and proceeded to beat his sempai six games to four.

If there was one thing Fuji knew how to do, it was humiliate people. And so, in order to win the match, he used Tsubame Gaishi.

The crowed fell silent, and then the whispering started, even as Eiji ran up and enveloped him in a hug of pure happiness. "You're a genius, Fujiko!"

From that time on, it was what people called him. The 'tennis tensai', who, it seemed, would remain unbeaten by all but Tezuka Kunimitsu.

To tell the truth, Fuji didn't understand why everyone made such a big fuss over it. He had, after all, practiced hard to learn his Triple Counters, and the basic theory behind the moves were, in fact, very simple. There seemed to be no real reason to be so astounded.

If there was one thing that the tensai did not, at that point in time, understand, it was why society would label him a prodigy.

All he knew was that society was really extremely weird.

* * *

Once when Fuji was walking past his first year kouhai unnoticed, he overheard them talking.

"I wonder why Fuji-sempai smiles so much? Isn't he ever sick of it?"

The other boy – Katsuo, he believed – just shrugged. "Isn't that good? He's so friendly to all of us – much better than my oniisan. He's always bullying me."

"Yeah, I get what you mean. My oneesan always thinks she knows everything, and I don't know anything at all."

Fuji passed them with a quiet smile, ignoring that little voice of sadism which told him to conveniently 'appear' in front of them…

* * *

By the time Fuji realised it, he had already become a stereotype of society.

Simply because he was known as a tensai, he was expected to be good at everything. Teachers expected him to score perfect 'A's, and students expected him to have all the answers. If he was unable to meet either expectation, he would be looked upon with disbelief and disappointment.

Due to who he was, he began to be used as _the_ standard for comparison. Those who were compared against him sometimes began to hate him as well. They didn't seem to realise that he hadn't asked for this, nor that he hated being used as a model as much as they hated being compared.

Since all the teachers seemed to like him, his classmates expected him to be happy and contented. They always expected him to be basking in the trust of the teachers. Some even thought he would be stuck-up and proud. They all assumed he would enjoy all his lessons.

They didn't know that he was a person who hated drawing attention to himself, and they never thought that he was just like them – that there were also lessons which he did not find interesting, and that there were questions which he didn't know the answers to.

Society had taken many things away from him. It had removed potential friendships and replaced them with unreasonable respect and fear. It had placed him on a pedestal that many were afraid of climbing. It had caused him to be so popular that even strangers knew him as 'tensai Fuji Syusuke'.

It had taken Yuuta, his otouto and, at one point in time, his best friend and confidante, far away from him and to a rival school, and had turned those friendly feelings into ones of sibling rivalry and intense competition.

Fuji Syusuke was always looking for things which he could call his own, which society could never take from him.

Almost everyone he met had asked him some time or other: "Why do you always smile?"

Perhaps it was for the simple reason that it was all he had left; that all society had left for him was his smile.


End file.
